Anna Stone Mountain Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Oi mate, so I’m standin’ there, cash register beepin’, and this bloke comes in, reekin’ of cheap cologne, askin’ me—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred”—where to find a prostitute. Me, I’m thinkin’, “What am I, yer bloody pimp?” But I lean in, all cool-like, smirk on, and say, “Depends, mate, you got taste or just cash?” He’s all twitchy, nervous, probly his first rodeo. I’m pissed tho—why me? Why not Google it, ya twat? But then I’m like, whatever, let’s have some fun.

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I get mad sometimes when people trash the vibe—it's a minefield of emotions, dude! I mean, there’s graffiti on walls that mimic the raw pain of life, and sometimes I just explode in fury and then laugh at the absurdity. Life's a damn roller coaster, brother—full of twists, turns, and moments that hit you like a sledgehammer, ya know?

(PHOTOS) The Day of the Dead Festival in Stone Mountain Village